And He said, Go and tell this people, Hear ye indeed, but understand not; and see ye indeed, but perceive not.
--Isaiah 6 vs 9 (King James Version)
All her life, she'd been told she could succeed at whatever she wanted, as long as she set her mind to it.
Guess that didn't include cheating.
…
Wait. OK. Wow, that's a terrible first impression.
Forget that, or don't…
Or…
You know what, let's get back to it later.
Right now— she ducked behind a row of chairs – she had to avoid being caught. This was the second classroom now, and they still hadn't given up.
A girl about her age burst through the doors, taking a look around, followed by a boy. Jordan hoped they'd leave, but she knew they'd seen her come in here.
"C'mon, she can't be far," the girl said, then pointed to the chairs, "Check behind the seats."
Drat.
The doors opened again and three more rushed in, another boy, two more girls. The same girl gave them marching orders, "Keep checking the seats, smoke her out."
Jordan watched the legs of one of them pass a few rows from her, then she began crawling through the spaces underneath the chairs, going to the back.
They kept circling. Then—
"You," the girl barked to one of them, "Watch that second door."
Too late.
Jordan shot out from underneath the last row and was through it before the other guy could even blink.
"Get her!" she could hear the girl yell.
Jordan was glad the corridors at Mayhaven's were really wide. She turned a corner and nearly slid into a wall of lockers. She caught herself and kept running.
A few strides gone and her calves already ached.
Hide. Where could she hide?
Not another classroom— she wasn't fast enough to make sure none of them saw her as she ducked into one and it was almost guaranteed they wouldn't fall for that trick a second time; Bren, her lead tormentor, would have them block off all the exits, and she'd be dead meat for sure.
She could hear them gaining on her already. The yells of "I'll slaughter her," were really getting old.
Science lab?
Nope. Definitely not. All sorts of crazy things in there. Call her a scaredy-cat but there was no way she was adding those to the mix.
Alright, so no good hiding places. In that case—
She turned a second corner, through another corridor and down the back stairs out into the open. A path through a red iron gate led to the athletics wing and she cut across the sports field outside.
Risky move—the entire thing was a huge rectangle, and they could trap her at the other end. Already, she could hear Bren shouting at the others:
"Go around the sides, block off the other gate."
The right end of the field had a path that linked back to the administrative block and the front gate of the school.
Meanwhile, someone else barrelled down on her from the left, ready to box her in.
She forgot— they had a member of the track and field club on their side.
The right gate was hopeless now, she'd never make it.
Too bad she wasn't headed there in the first place.
From her charge down the centre, she bolted to the left, cutting through diagonally, putting her all into that short burst. Unfortunately for them, their chaser just missed her.
Between the yells to regroup and shouts of stop her and the sounds of them hot at her heels, all she could think about was how good it felt to get one over them.
And how crazy she was to do it.
Her lungs, everything burned, but that was better than anything they would do to her.
She went through the left gate. Immediately there was a change, and her running took a hit. The ground went from tar and gravel to course red sand that shot up in clouds with her every stride. The sounds of them chasing after her faltered.
There were no more orders to space out to box her in. Perhaps they felt it safer to stick together in this place. Deep down, she'd sure like some company here too.
The left gate of the field led to the other end of the school. You know—the side they'd try to hide in all the advertisements. In Mayhaven's case, the leftovers from all the renovations had been dumped here—and the clean-up crew wasn't keeping up.
In the distance, she could see the Civic Towers; the greenish glass shimmered in the sunlight. A little up ahead, their own little tower, "Big Boy" loomed. That was the nickname the students gave to this makeshift mountain, made from a cluster of these huge red rocks piled up on top of each other, about five meters high. Yup, real creative.
The sounds of the chase slowly died down behind her. She cruised on at a slow jog for a good distance before she stopped.
About ten meters. Should be safe enough.
"Hey," Bren called to her, hands on her waist and breathing heavily, "What'd you have to go running in here for?"
How did survival sound?
In reality, Jordan did the mature thing—she stuck out her tongue.
"You'd better stop being so cocky, West. Don't think we can't still get to you."
Don't provoke them Jordan, her reason told her. She could stand to listen to it sometimes, maybe right now.
"Yeah, maybe when you're actually smart enough to set up a proper ambush."
For the record, that was not how you listened to reason.
She'd done it now.
Bren's face contorted and she charged forward. Their track star rolled her eyes like, here we go again but still geared up to run. Bet it was good practice for her.
Jordan knew it herself, she was pretty sure she'd shaved at least a few seconds off her best time since she started running from them.
Which was pretty useful right now. She booked it.
She skirted the edge of the fence to throw them off, then sprinted for Big Boy. The base of the mountain was made up of scattered stones of all sizes, one of which she hoped could provide enough cover.
She ducked under a huge one right up against main body of the mountain, back against stone. A couple of sparse bushes grew in front while a ledge jutted out above, shading her.
Breathing quickly, she listened and watched for any sign of them. She'd planned to wait it out for them to leave but now she wondered if she could circle past them back to the field.
Her heart thumped in her chest, she could hear a few of them to the right, still a little farther away.
Maybe she could make it...
She leaned forward, about to bust out and try when she heard a "Hey," to her left. She stumbled backwards.
Someone was peeking at her over the ledge.
"How—What are you doing up there?!" she whisper-yelled. The back-end was still part of the school, but it wasn't exactly a place students were encouraged to come.
Jordan didn't think she'd seen her before.
"I've been watching you work," the girl said, "Nice manoeuvering, but you know that's not gonna stop them from coming after you."
"Yeah, but--"
"Bet they wouldn't see you from up here though," she suggested in a little sing-song voice.
She was right. But even though, how was she going to get up there?
Jordan gave the wall of rock a quick survey. It was smooth and straight, no hand or foot holds in sight.
She could hear them getting closer.
The girl saw her looking but rather than offer to help, she gave her a smile which Jordan thought was rather sly. "I'll do you something better," she said and sat up, "Wait there."
Then she cupped her hands around her mouth and yelled, "HEYYY!"
Jordan jerked back against the rock, crouching into her little cubby-hole as far as she could. "What are you doing?" she whispered fiercely. She might as well put a giant signal on her head.
Jordan made every sign she knew for "stop" but that didn't keep the girl from shouting at the top of her lungs. She stood up on the ledge, picked up a heavy-looking rock and heaved, throwing it to the right where it struck against the fence, making a fair bit of noise, and sending red sand billowing. A moment later, she picked up a few pebbles and threw them to something, or someone to the left.
Through her bush, Jordan saw two guys and Bren, but there could be more. They were looking over at the side the rock had hit. One guy was struck on the shoulder, the other at the back of the head. She nailed Bren on the chin, right as she turned around.
That got their attention.
Jordan was boxed in. It was either a suicide-rush out or waiting there to be caught like a mouse. But before she charged, she made sure to get a good look at the girl's face—she'd get even, sooner or later.
"Don't go that way," the girl yelled to the trio. "It's a rock, she threw it distract you! She's over to the left, circling back to the field!"
Bren stepped forward, looking like she wanted to say something. One of them caught her arm.
"Oh, don't take my word for it, if you'd like," she continued, "Just a friendly tip from someone looking to see some carnage. Keep chasing a ghost if you want." She paused to take a breath. "But if you hurry, you might still be able to catch her!"
She gave them a friendly little wave.
The posse glanced at each other, not knowing whether to trust the girl. Bren pouted and mulled it over. It took a second before she came to a decision.
"Let's go!" she said. But not before giving a last dagger-like glare to the girl on the rock.
They turned and ran back towards the field.
The girl's little smile was still there as she slid back down to her seat. "Ah, JS 3 students," she sighed, "Don't have to be all that bright." Her look turned a little wistful and she kicked down a fist-sized rock she'd at some point hidden behind her leg, "Guess I won't have to use this."
Jordan started breathing again, though it froze up a little again when she saw the rock.
"You need to learn how to relax," the girl said to her. "If I wanted to give you up, I had a lot of time, and there are a whole lot of better ways to do it."
Jordan could say a whole lot to that, but decided for now, it would be best to be a little more polite.
"Thanks. You saved me."
You bet I did, the girl's look seemed to say.
"I was rooting for you," she stretched out her hand, "I'm Sarai. Sarai Greene."
The name was little familiar to Jordan, but she didn't say anything.
She shook her hand, "Jordan West," she introduced likewise.
Seemed like her name also rang a bell in Sarai's mind, "Oh, so you're the new kid."
Jordan scoffed, sinking back into her cove. She wasn't sure when she'd started to hate when people called her that, "I haven't been new for at least the last month now," she said.
Sarai let out a non-committal Oh and lay on her back. "So where do you and Bren have history from?"
That wasn't the next question Jordan expected, maybe why'd you switch schools or so, what are you doing here? It felt weird, like sitting down at a complete stranger's table at a café and asking are you carrying a gun? At the same time, it wasn't so weird—why would Bren have it out so bad for a new kid?
But the answer, was a little technical.
"Oh, I knew…" What should she call it? "… a friend of hers at my old school."
And she picked up the baton here.
"It's a small world," Sarai joked.
Oh, you have no idea.
Jordan decided to shoot one back, "And what about you? Do you like sitting on top of rocks often?"
Sarai turned her hand so her palm was facing upwards, "Eh, no one's ever said not to. Besides, who cares?"
Jordan realised she didn't have anything to say to carry on the conversation, and Sarai had placed her hands behind her head and closed her eyes.
It seemed she'd overstayed her welcome—she at least knew how to tell that.
She got up and dusted herself off. Sarai cracked open an eye, "Leaving already?" She shut it back, "I say you shouldn't use that front entrance anymore; they could be there waiting for you."
"Then where— I mean I didn't think there was any other exit."
"How often do you come here?" Sarai asked.
Good point.
"Come on," she sighed, "I'll show you." She got up again, then added as a bit of a mutter, "I'm really not sure why I'm helping you so much today."
Jordan couldn't help noticing that the Mayhaven's uniform looked actually, not ugly on her, despite the bulky blazer and all.
"Close your eyes," Sarai told her.
"Why?"
Was she trying to make it some kind of genie in a bottle magic stuff?
"I don't wanna show you how to get up here," she replied, like it was obvious.
She was beginning to learn Sarai preferred being direct.
Half a minute later, Jordan felt a tap on her shoulder. The great Sarai had descended into the land of the mortals.
She followed her to the other end of the fence, directly opposite the gate they'd entered from. She found that Sarai's "other exit" was actually just a gap in the wall. It wasn't that big, just enough to fit a dog, a chair perhaps, or a thirteen-year-old, crawling on her knees, with her head bent really low.
At the other side, as Jordan dusted off her hair and leggings, Sarai gave her directions, "You're in the agricultural department now, a short trek straight through the farms should bring you to the back of the school building. Just watch for the fish farm and turn right there."
She started walking away, most likely headed back to her perch, "And you'd better make sure that library's clean too," she called.
Short trek, Sarai had said. The entire thing took her fifteen minutes.
The farmlands weren't that big—the problem was trudging through heaps of mulch, more sand, and rows of plants.
Anyhow, just as she'd said, she emerged at the back entrance of the school building she'd run out of, and even better, no sign of Bren and her crew. She clapped her shoes against the concrete steps to get the gunk off them.
Back inside, she found the library, sighed, picked up a mop and got back to work.
The soft click of heels came from a little way behind her, and a greying head popped out the New Arrivals room, "And where have you been?" a tall, spindly woman asked, peering over her glasses. The crocheted curls on her head were pulled into a tight bun, strands of grey slightly peeking through.
What could Jordan say? Oh, you know, just holding random track meets throughout the entire school.
"Uh, bathroom," she whispered.
"Hmhm", the lady hummed, clearly not believing her. She walked over to a nearby shelf and shuffled the books, "If they come for you again," she exchanged a copy of Tom Sawyer, with Moby Dick in the classics section, "Come straight to me or the headmistress, alright?"
Jordan focused finishing up her mopping, pouring in the mild frustration of the words she hadn't been able to say, And, what about when neither of you are there, ma'am? What then?
She looked around to see if there was anything else to do. Luckily, she'd finished arranging the new volumes and wiping down the desks before school had let out for the day, so with this—she was done.
She looked to the lady, trying to telepathically communicate that she was ready to leave.
Arms folded, the woman's crow-like eyes swept over the entire library, from the shelving to the desks, nodding at intervals. She cleared her throat and fixed her eyes on Jordan.
She subconsciously stood straighter.
"Alright," she sighed, then asked quite an obvious question, "Jordan, how long have you been doing this?"
An uh-oh sounded at the back of her mind. What had she done wrong now?
She answered as carefully as she could, "Since the beginning of this school term, about a month to today."
"Three weeks and four days, to be exact. And you've showed up every time, haven't you?"
"Yes ma'am."
You know that.
"And you remember what you've done?"
Yeah, morning classes with the headmistress so she was up to speed on everything, then she was handed over to her supervisor for community service in the afternoons based on whatever Mrs. Alero had in mind—bathrooms, offices, classrooms, science labs and now the library.
Why could she be asking all this?
"Well then, its January 31th today," she took one last sweep of the room, "As your supervisor, I can report that Jordan West has successfully completed all requirements of our little arrangement— and that your probationary period is terminated as of today."
She flashed her a rare smile and stretched out a sinewy hand, "Welcome to Mayhaven. Officially."
Jordan stared dumbly at the hand for a moment, not quite processing what to do.
"What? Do you maybe want me to add up the minutes you spent running around the school?"
That snapped her out of it. She shook her head, "No, no."
She took the old lady's, no, Mrs. Alero's hand.
"There we go." The lady had quite a strong grip.
"You can pick up your uniform over the weekend. See you sharp on Monday."
The woman's eyes gained an image of sternness and complete clarity—
"I expect great things of you."
The evening sky was lit up in the colours of sunset. Mrs. Alero had wanted to drive her home, but Jordan asked, well more like convinced her, to drop her off a few streets shy. It wasn't easy— she'd only agreed on the condition that her mother called as soon as she got home.
She ambled along the narrow sidewalk, lost in thought. Funny how it'd already been a year since they moved, she'd thought she'd never get used to the place, now look at her; two schools in.
Her mom would probably be getting the message from the school right about now and she'd completely freak. The woman would be nothing but proud of her, even though she completely didn't deserve it.
Her hands balled into little fists and she stared at her shoes. She had to do better this time. She'd never be able to stand that look coming to her mother's face again—not disappointed; never disappointed, just sad — really, really sad.
It's what she'd promised her dad too. It was at times like this she really missed him—
Bam!
She turned to the left. That was the sound of plastic warping. In a closed-off alley, sat two large trash bins that filled up most of the space. Something was crouched on top the one closest to the road, rummaging through it.
It looked like a dog—a really huge dog— maybe a freak Saint-Bernard or German Shepard.
She looked a little closer, peering into the darkness of the alley.
That can't be a dog.
What then? Her heart did a little dance. A stupid little thought came to her head— Was it… a hyena?
She'd heard rumours that people who kept them, maybe one of them had escaped? She stepped back a little, was she about to make local news— "Unlikeliest ways to die in Lagos?"
But wait—hyenas… didn't get that big either.
The soft sound of her step must have reached it, its head snapped to where she was standing. She froze, breath catching in her throat as she locked eyes with it, or where its eyes probably were—in the darkness, she couldn't make out its face from its inky black head.
Her thoughts ran on autopilot. Wolf, it's definitely a wolf, but did they even get wolves in this city at all?
But Jordan couldn't lie to herself for long—the whatever it was slowly stepped down from its perch and into the glow of the fading sunlight. The snout was misshapen, its back was too high, and no wolf, no animal that size she could think of at all, could walk on such thin, spindly limbs. And knees that opened up the wrong way.
It was gruesome and malformed, yet Jordan could recognise the faintest hint of a certain quality in it—
She had never seen anything so human like, and yet completely not.
It put a foot, or a paw, or whatever it should be called into the road…
And then it started coming towards her.
Jordan was really, really glad she'd been running from Bren for the past month.
She ran straight for her house street, practically sliding through the corners. It may have been very, very stupid but she couldn't think of anything except for home.
She turned the corner for her house, screaming at the top of her lungs. Victor, their evening gatekeeper, stuck his head out of the pedestrian gate.
"Hey, what's—"
She waved for him to get out of the way and sped past him. Rude, yes, but it was kind of an emergency. She hounded him to hurry and close the gate, but (and despite her best warnings, really!), he insisted on taking a glance outside. She didn't want to watch—
Right around the corner, a shadow streaked. And out came—a slow, panting brown dog.
Very vicious.
Victor cackled beside her. She strung her school bag over her shoulder and skulked to the house. Before she made it halfway to the front door, her mom came running through it, "I heard screaming."
Deborah West had the same long brown hair, brown eyes, and everything else as her daughter but in a more mature, sophisticated package. It reminded her of how some wines were better when they were aged.
"Yes, I think she was frightened by a dog," Victor called to her, still at the gate.
Jordan didn't care, she dropped her bag and hugged her mom tight.
"Oh!"
"It wasn't a dog," she whispered.
Her mom patted her back and crouched to her level, holding her face in her hand.
"Then what?" she asked.
Jordan blinked; she hadn't realised she'd spoken out loud. She hated that she'd scared her mom, but it was too late now to withhold anything. She told her what she saw.
She looked into her eyes, then nodded. Jordan knew—her mom believed her.
"Victor," she called, eyes not leaving Jordan's face, "Would you mind checking around? I think something really spooked her. Please."
He stepped out and was gone for a few minutes. "I didn't see anything," he reported when he got back and closed the gate, "But I chased away the dog."
"Thanks," her mom said and looked back at Jordan, "Baby, I don't think anything's out there anymore now."
Jordan nodded, trying hard to believe her.
"And whatever it was," she added, "It has to go through me first."
Jordan really didn't want that. What she wanted was for it to not be real, she wanted it so, so bad. It… wasn't real, was it? —it was probably just… her imagination, a bad daydream, a—a trick of the light.
Yeah, just a trick of the light.
Wait, what had she even seen? Her memory of the shadow was already fading.
She smiled and linked her arm with her mom's, and they ushered each other into the house.
She'd seen nothing that day. Absolutely nothing at all.